


After

by WhoopsyDaisies



Series: The Wanderer God [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Afterlife, F/M, Gods, M/M, Multi, Multiple Partners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22204912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsyDaisies/pseuds/WhoopsyDaisies
Summary: Many have laid claim to the dragonborn's soul, and he's been mostly alright with that. His whole life he has known that whatever the afterlife has in store, it will certainly be interesting.In which, the dragonborn breathes his last, nearly starts a war, gets advice from an unexpected place, flirt's a bit, and claims who he really is.
Relationships: Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Farkas, Male Dovahkiin/ Daedric Princes
Series: The Wanderer God [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1598416
Comments: 3
Kudos: 70





	After

The last dragonborn was tired. Throughout the world he was known as Slayer of the worldeater, Hero of the nords, Arch-mage, Guildmaster, Listener, and Champion to more daedric princes than an Argonian has scales. He’d lived long enough, been to plenty of corners of Tamriel, and told his fare share of stories. It was time to move on, to look towards what came after. Most men and mer on Tamriel knew what would become of their souls upon death. Whether they would feast eternally in Shor’s Hall, or face the enslavement of Coldharbour, they dedicated their lives to one Divine or Prince. The dragonborn, however, had at different points of his life, been champion for all of the Daedric princes that he knew of. The only other person who knew the extent of his meddlings with the Daedrahad been his steadfast, ever gracious husband who’d once asked if he was worried about what would happen to him once the Princes and Divines found him out.

“I doubt they don’t already know.” He had said, looking up from where his head had been resting on Farkas’s chest. “Not much they can do until I die, I think. Besides,” He said with a shrug, grinning widely, “It’ll be damn entertaining.” 

Farkas had just laughed at his response. He was one of the few people who understood his strange sense of humor and borderline blasphemy when it came to things involving those not mortal. 

It was a good memory, and the dragonborn smiled at it, once again missing his husband who’d been gone some ten years now. It really was time to move on. 

He looked around at his small house in Whiterun, the only one he still owned, before closing his eyes. Yes, it was time to stop fighting and let himself drift off, let Arkay take him to wherever he would end up. It was peaceful in a way he hadn’t experienced since he’d returned to Skyrim all those years ago. He’d been alone for so long now and everything hurt, past battle wounds throbbing constantly in his old age, barely able to move around the house anymore. All of it faded away, he let himself fall asleep at last.

Several shouting voices woke him and he sat up with a start, faster than he’d been able to in years. He looked down at himself and saw the body of a young Nord in his prime, a sight he hadn’t seen in decades. The best way to describe the ground he was on was a stark white hard concrete, but that still wasn’t quite right. It was more like an unfinished expanse of nothing which both did and didn’t make sense to him. His brow furrowed as he patted the ground, trying to catch up with what what he was seeing. The change was so distracting that it took him awhile to register the sounds around him and look up.

Any normal man would’ve gone mad at seeing 15 Daedric Princes at once, but the dragonborn merely winced, shielding his eyes for a moment before he could comprehend the sight before him. The arguing stopped gradually as each Prince turned to study him. Despite himself, he felt an odd sensation, as if a shiver ran down his spine. A hand settled on his shoulder, startling him, but before he could look up, a strong arm wrapped around his chest and helped him stand.

A growl resonated from the crowd of Daedra in front of him. “We agreed that your claim has no power over ours.” A voice, full of malice and one the dragonborn recognized, shouted out from in front of him. 

“Yes, yes, calm down. I have no wish to steal him from you, even if you never decide who among you deserves him most.” said the being helping him stand, a hint of mirth in his voice. This was a voice that the dragonborn had never heard, but he knew it immediately. He quickly turned, surprised to actually meet him. The being looked shorter that his statue. In a strange kind of way he was both more and less grand in person. 

“Talos?” he asked, finally finding his own footing.

“Call me Tiber.” The god of Heroes said with a smile. The dragonborn huffed in disbelief, his eyes wandering to look over Tiber Septim’s shoulder. The Divines standing behind him were harder to gaze upon, and the dragonborn had to look away after a few seconds, feeling lightheaded. He turned back to Talos, eyes wide.

“Are all of them here?” He asked, dazed. 

Talos shook his head with a laugh, clasping the dragonborn’s shoulder and squeezing it lightly, “Just those with a vested interest in you.”

Most likely that included at least Arkay, Akatosh, Kynareth and possibly Dibella. Those were the first that came to mind, anyway.

“Are we in Oblivion, then?” the dragonborn asked, looking around and seeing only more of the odd nothingness. 

“Somewhere in between Oblivion and Aetherius.” Talos corrected, “And we’ll remain here while it is decided what is to become of you. Hopefully, you don’t end up like the other lost souls.”

“Lost souls?” The dragonborn asked

“Wandering souls, more like.” Talos said, grimly, eyes gazing at the emptiness around them. “Those that have served neither Daedra nor Aedra in life.” He paused, quirking a brow with a half smile, “Or more than one. None of them can be claimed for any one realm without evoking the wrath of all the others.”

The dragonborn sighed and shook his head, looking back over to the Daedra, “And they have a stronger claim on me than you. Of course they do.” He knew what he had done in life, the choices he’d had to make in order to survive or guarantee the survival of others.

“Do you have regrets?” Talos asked, curiously. “After all, you brought this on yourself.” 

The dragonborn hesitated a moment before laughing, “At least this isn’t boring.” 

The two of them laughed as the Daedra looked on warily, a few of them making noises of protest before being silenced by a look from Talos. After the laughter died down the dragonborn shook his head, eyeing Talos thoughtfully. “Please tell me you personally appear before every Divine’s damned Altmer who doesn’t believe in your godhood?” 

Talos smiled, eyes glinting, “Mostly they still try to argue my own existence with me. I usually let Molag take those ones.” 

A voice cut in, before they could start laughing again, “Yes, yes, this is all very touching.” The dragonborn turned to see a horned figure standing from where he’d been crouched by an ordinary looking house dog. “Dragonborns uniting and all. But there is still a very important decision to be made.”

“He’s mine.” Drawled a voice that seemed to come from everywhere, long slender limbs sliding out of nowhere towards the dragonborn who stood still, not flinching as one almost touched him. He could’ve sworn Talos himself merely rolled his eyes before backing up a step. The appendage was ripped away, the feeling of being watched from every direction faded only a little as Hircine grappled with it. 

“You will wait for us to come to an agreement or your realm will be mine.” Hircine swore under his breath. Honestly, the Dragonborn was distracted for a few moments watching the Princes wrestle with each other. It wasn’t long before the others joined in, every one of them shouting, some shoving at each other. 

“Are you just going to wait for them to decide?” Talos asked, tilting his head and eyeing up the dragonborn,voice filled with amusement. 

“What do you mean?” he responded, turning his head away from the show to shoot a questioning gaze at the god behind him. 

“You know how the mortals speak of you? Of the stories they tell, the requests they still send to you? You know what they call you?” Talos’s voice grew serious as he seemed to stretch and fill in. He blurred a bit around the edges, his presence a burning heat where it had been a comforting warmth before. Somehow Talos become more divine in merely a blink. 

“Do you think I was given this?” The Divine asked, voice resonating as the Dragonborn had to look away, eyes burning with the intensity. “That the Aedra chose to share divinity with me?”

The dragonborn stood before the god he had fought for, had worshipped in secret for so many years. A grin slowly spread across his face as he pieced together the message this Divine was sending him. He took a deep breath, more to center himself than out of need, and forced himself to look up, fighting past the instinct to look away and meeting Talos’s gaze straight on. 

“I hope to see you again, Brother” He said, and the words seemed to resonate across the short distance between them, carrying more weight than he expected. An almost physical bond formed between them. The devotion he felt was now one of friendship, brotherhood and trust instead of worship. Tiber nodded, eyes reflecting that he felt the same as he stepped back, returning to his place among the Divines.

“Clavicus.” The dragonborn called out, as he watched Tiber retreat, voice echoing over the din of arguing voices. He turned and fixed his eyes on the horned figure, taking a step forward. 

“I’m truly honored that my soul is worth so much to everyone and truly wish I could spend all eternity with them, especially you.”

The declaration was met with silence, accept for Sheogorath who cackled loudly, having come to expect the unexpected from this mortal. The other’s waited, most of them preening at the assumed praise and secretly jealous that the Dragonborn seemed to favor the trickster.

Clavicus Vile huffed and crossed his arms, ignoring the other reactions. He was the only one who understood what was actually being said anyway. “When did you figure that one out?”

The dragonborn smirked and looked around at the others, some very terribly hiding the confusion they felt. “The first time I talked to one of them.” He said, turning back to Clavicus, the only Daedra who had the ability to comprehend sarcasm. He’d often wondered why that was, but just put it down to being in his nature, having to make all those underhanded deals. “Made things interesting, that’s for sure.” 

“It’s part of how you ended up in this mess.” Clavicus accused, “All those ‘It’s an honor, My Lord.” He rolled his eyes and absently reached down to scratch behind Barbas’s ears. 

“You’re not entirely incorrect about that.” the dragonborn agreed, stepping closer and smiling down at Barbas before reaching up to boldly trail his hand down Clavicus’s arm. “You know, We had some fun together.”

Clavicus looked wary, glancing from the hand on his arm up the man in front of him. “That we did.” he agreed with a nod, eyes narrowed. 

“And we could keep having fun.” the dragonborn continued, stepping even closer, raising a hand to stop the Daedra from speaking, “But not for eternity. We’d both get bored, wouldn’t you agree?” 

Clavicus’s brow furrowed, knowing that he was missing something here. He looked down at Barbas “What’s he doing?” Even though it shouldn’t be possible for dogs to shrug, that’s exactly what Barbas did. 

“You would never grow bored with me.” Came the voice of Hermaeus Mora, a tentacle wrapping tightly around the dragonborn’s middle. Instead of pulling away, the dragonborn went willingly, almost playfully scratching at the appendage around him. “I’m sure you could teach me all sorts of things.” He said with a wink to the mass of eyes that suddenly appeared to his left, causing the Daedra to loosen his grip in surprise and allowing the dragonborn to slip free, turning and tripping into Hircine, who reached out to steady him. 

“I have a stronger claim on you.” Hircine said firmly, “You were one of my pack. You cannot escape me so easily.”

“I do miss it sometimes.” the dragonborn breathed out, meeting the empty eyes of the deer skull representing the Daedra’s head, “Being lost in the call of your hunt.” It wasn’t a lie. There was part of him that longed for that feeling again, but he knew he would grow tired of it eventually, just like he had in life. He reached up as he righted himself, cupping the side of the skull. “You know how much I love being chased.” 

The moment was broken by a woman’s voice “You made a pact with me.” A being cloaked in darkness melted out of the shadows around them. “You will serve me in death as you did in life.” 

“Lady Nocturnal.” the dragonborn said, turning to the Daedra he’d sworn to serve, who he’d come to respect in a different way than the others. “I would never renege on a deal,” He paused to quickly shoot a wink at Clavicus before turning back to her, dipping his head in a slight bow, more deference than he’d shown any of the others. “But don’t you agree that I am worth more than being a simple guard or good luck charm?” 

Before anyone else could speak he pulled away from them, waving a hand around, “Do any of you think that your realm could contain me for eternity? Really?” Reckless courage and not a small amount of pride came from his dragon heritage and he was going to use every ounce of it now. He might of been imagining it, but he was sure he heard a rumble of approval from Akatosh behind him. “I am more than the mortal you struck deals with, and yet I am connected with you all. In life I never stayed in one place for long, I visited, I learned, I had friends and lovers and enemies. I want nothing different now.”

“And who do you think you are to demand that your desires be met.” Molag Bal said, anger filling his voice. 

From behind him, Sheogorath winced, “Shouldn’t have asked that, Bal.” he said wryly.

The dragonborn’s smile was cold. It told of endless quests and the people that had died to fulfill them. It spoke of the kindness given to family and cherished ones, of retribution for wrongs done. It sang of the paths traveled, the dreams both fulfilled and denied. 

“My name is Rovaanok.” He said, using the dragon tongue to name his new life. voice carrying over all of them and causing even Mephala to shiver. “I am the one that the lost pray to, that secret lovers seek guidance from. I guard those who are hunted, who wish a safe journey, a warm hearth to rest for the night. I bring joy and I bring sorrow at the end of many adventures. I am the sunrise over a new town, the breeze from an unknown ocean.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, feeling the truth of his words. “This is MY realm.” he said, opening his arms, “This WayPoint. Were restless travelers find their bearings.” His eyes opened, gleaming brighter than before, so bright a mortal would have to look away or go blind. 

“Holy shit.” Sheogorath muttered. “The bastard’s going to do it.”

The dragonborn smiled, something more feral in his spirit and an undefinable dragonlike quality filling him, a shadow of wings behind him and the rushing roar of the wind whipping around him. There was no mistaking his heritage as he stood now, newly claimed power filling the entire space. “I am” he said, feeling the whispers of thousands of souls already seeking his guidance, “The Wanderer.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I find the Daedric Princes attractive and this is mostly just a wish fulfillment fic. It came about after I realized that if someone were to really pledge themselves to that many powerful Daedra, there would be quite literal hell to pay in the afterlife. Also, if one dragonborn can ascend to godhood, why can't another descend to demonhood? I'll probably write more in this universe if enough people are interested or if I just get inspiration I've already got plans on how to reunite Rovaan with his husband so we'll see. 
> 
> Oh and Rovaanok is a combination of two words from the dragon language, "Rovaan" which means "Wander" and "Nok" which means "to lie(Rest or death)" or "To lie, tell a falshood" and I thought both of those were fitting!


End file.
